


Letters to My Love

by gray_autumn_sky



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 15:23:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7392943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gray_autumn_sky/pseuds/gray_autumn_sky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While in New York, Robin wrote letters to Regina; and one day, she finds them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters to My Love

Regina tightens the knot on her robe and flops back onto the bed, smiling as she hears the shower turn on. Her stomach growls and her smile fades, the realization setting in that all she’s had to eat today is a piece of toast. With a heavy sigh, she turns her head to the bathroom door, listening as the glass doors slide open and close. There isn’t much that Robin truly enjoys about the modern world, but the ability to take long, hot showers sits at the top of his very short list. For a moment, she considers sliding in with him, letting the hot water and steam work their magic against her tired muscles, but her stomach lurches again, panging with hunger and she decides against it.

She rolls over and reaches toward the nightstand, her hand patting the surface until it lands on the phone. She smiles victoriously as she pulls it to her, and frowns when she realizes the phone belongs to Robin, not her. Sitting up, she stares down at it. She presses her thumb against the home button, smiling gently as a picture of Roland eating a caramel apple as he sits atop Henry’s shoulders. Her smile warms as she remembers the day—warm for fall, clear skies and the first time she ever enjoy the annual town fair. She remembers how Robin held her hand—such a simple gesture—as they boys play carnival games and went on rides.

Her growling stomach interrupts the memory and she hesitates for only a moment before swiping her finger along the bottom of the screen and her thoughts shift to sushi. She catches her bottom lip between her teeth as she punches in Roland’s birthday, the passcode she set when she introduced Robin to the device.

She blinks at the screen, grimacing as she realizes that she over tapped the last number and has opened up his notes. She blinks again and looks down at the list of entries, more than taken aback by the number. Swallowing, she starts to close the app, but her fingers hesitate. Again, her lip catches between her teeth; she doesn’t want to be that girlfriend, the one who snoops through her boyfriend’s phone under the guise of ordering sushi. But the entries are all dated for the weeks that Robin was in New York, and the first line of each bears her name.

She glances toward the bathroom door then back at the phone. He’s been so vague about New York, and she knows that it’s because he doesn’t want to hurt her. After all, she said it herself in New York—understanding that he was moving on with Marian was one thing and see the proof of it was something else entirely.

She scrolls carefully, smiling wistfully at the long list of entries that all begin ‘My Dear Regina…’

Again, she glances toward the door and she grimaces with guilt as her curiosity gets the better of her and she taps a random entry. At first, she doesn’t look at it; instead, she holds her breath, waiting to be caught and waiting for the disappointment to settle in his eyes. But the water continues and her curiosity builds until her eyes fall back to the screen.

She reads any entry about how grateful he is to her—not just for making sure he and his family had what they needed to start a new life, but grateful to have had the chance to love her, to be loved by her. She reads that his only regret is that their time together was cut short. She reads about the day he deleted her phone number—how it was merely symbolic—he knew the number by heart and he hardly needed a picture to remember her smile.

She reads about how he’d walk through Central Park alone and let the memories they’d made together in the forest consume him—he remembered the first time he’d met her and the first time he’d saved her; he’d remember how they traveled together toward her castle, how he’d keep a watchful eye on her, not because he knew her to be the Evil Queen, but because her sad eyes told him that she needed someone to care for her; he’d remembered the first time they walked together, in that year they’d all once upon a time forgotten, and how he’d reached for her hand fully expecting her to yank it away, but instead her fingers had curled down around his and his heart had soared; he remembered the first time she’d kissed him on that cold evening in Storybrooke; and, he remembered the moonlit walks they’d taken together and how it’d been on one of those walks that he first knew that he loved her.

She reads about how every night when he tucked Roland in, he would cling to the stuffed monkey that she’d given him; how the boy would ask about her and say that he missed her, and whenever they passed the apples at the grocery store, he’d smile and say the store smelled like happy memories. She reads about the Saturday day trips he and Roland would take together to the ice cream shop and how their conversation always seemed to drift to her; and, whenever they’d visit the library, Roland would ask him to read Goodnight Moon, simply because it was the story that Regina always chose to read to him.

She reads about a rainy day when Robin took a short cut home and on the way discovered an apple tree just like the one outside of Regina’s office; she reads about how he’d stood there, staring at it in awe as he practically transported him back to Storybrooke as the rain poured down around him. He’d remembered how he’d touched the bark and closed his eyes and thought of a picnic they’d shared beneath her tree and she told him of her first love; he’d remembered the way she’d lean up onto the tips of her toes to pick the apples; and he’d remember another rainy afternoon when they’d ducked beneath the branches to stay dry, laughing like teenagers as she pushed him up against the tree’s trunk and kissed him.

She reads about how he’d lay in bed at night, thinking of her smile and her touch as he drifted off to sleep; how he’d dream of her, reliving their memories over and over again—the day she’d caught his arrow in front of Zelena’s farm house, the way she’d flirted with him before noticing his tattoo, the way she smiled in spite of herself when he was near, and the shy but satisfied smile she’d flashed at him the morning after their first time together in her vault. Sometimes when he was unable to sleep, he’d think of her and it would comfort him—not just memories though, but secret hopes for the future. He’d think about what it would be like to see her again—maybe across a crowded room their eyes would lock and they’d smile as they made their way to one another, excitement building as they met half way and when they were finally close enough he’d pull her into his arms and kiss her—deeply and passionately until they were weak in the knees. They’d smile and laugh and his heart would swell with love for her. He had a thousand different scenarios about seeing her again and though it was painful to know that none of them would ever come true, they gave him a sense of hope—and he clung to that hope as tightly as he clung to their memories.

Her finger touches another entry, but the door creaks open and her eyes jump up to see Robin standing in the door way. He’s watching her curiously.

“I…I’m sorry,” she begins, stammering as a pang of guilt washes over her. “I didn’t mean…”

“You…found my letters.”

“I didn’t mean to,” she tells him, offering a sheepish grin. “I just wanted to order some sushi.”

He comes toward her and sits on the edge of the bed and it’s only then that she realizes he’s smiling. “You don’t have to apologize. They were, after all, addressed to you.”

“But they were never sent.”

He exhales slowly, sliding up the bed to sit beside her, “I typed each and every one of these thinking that I’d send it, wanting to send it and hoping you might send one back.” She swallows and turns her head to face him. “And then, every time at the last possible second, I chose not to send it because I didn’t want to cause you anymore pain.”

“I wish you’d sent them,” she says in a small voice. “I missed you so much.”

“I thought of you constantly,” he tells her softly, leaning in and dropping a kiss against her hair. “It’s funny, really—the more I tried to move on, the deeper in love with you I fell.”

“Yeah,” she breathes as her head drops to his shoulder and his arm slides around her, “I…uh…I know exactly what you mean.”

“Did you get to the one about the kale salads?”

Her eyebrows arch and she lifts her head. “You…ate kale salad?”

“For lunch. Frequently and willingly,” he tells her with a slight laugh. “Whenever I would see Kale at the grocery store, your voice would pop into my head, reminding me of how healthy it is.”

“It is healthy,” she insists as she cuddles back into him.

“That may be true, but it really doesn’t change the fact that it tastes like dirty grass.”

“So, you’re not even a little bit annoyed that I went through your phone and read those notes?”

“Not even a little,” he confirms. “Though, I do have to admit I wish you’d ordered that sushi first. I’m famished.”

Rolling her eyes, she smiles and swipes her finger across the screen and punches in the passcode before dialing the number and placing the order. He holds her a little closer as phone drops to her lap. She closes her eyes and settles against his chest, glad that they’ll never have to be apart again.


End file.
